


The Power of Sparkles

by Isclanel



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Chairman Meow cameo, Humour, M/M, Makeover, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-27 22:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/984216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isclanel/pseuds/Isclanel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Whatever you want to do with me, I'll be fine. Go ahead, I'm yours." It's Magnus' birthday, and Alec gives him his present in the hopes of receiving something in return. But what our little Shadowhunter gets isn't exactly what he had expected...</p><p>(Set after CoG, written before the last half of the series was even announced. Oh, don't you remember those times?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was my first MI fic back from 2009, originally published on FF.net. I was (and still am!) incredibly overwhelmed by the response I got, and I sincerely hope any new readers here love this just as much!
> 
> Also: Since this was written back in 2009, we were all still under the impression that CoG was the end-all. Over the course of this work, Cassie dropped the bomb that the series would continue. So while this was technically following canon when I began it, it definitely is non-canon now!
> 
> Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns the MI series, as well as Malec. Neither would be as awesome as they are if she didn't.

Everybody was giving me strange looks as I walked back to the Institute. They were looks that said, "What is he _wearing_?" or "Did he do that to himself purposefully?" There were even some people that were staring at my legs, my _legs_ , in utter disbelief – and some with total interest, I noticed uncomfortably – and I could tell that all they were thinking was "How did he get _into_ those pants?"

I felt oddly confident as I strode along the streets of Brooklyn. It was almost as if someone had completely erased my old self, my look, my personality, and had replaced it with a new identity. I didn't care what people thought of me at the moment; I didn't care if people thought that I looked totally abnormal. I actually _wanted_ people to notice me; I _wanted_ people to say when they were at the dinner table tonight, "Hey, did you see that guy on the street?" And then they would go on and on about how delightfully wonderful I looked. Wow, Alec Lightwood is actually thinking of himself as looking good.

As I continued down the sidewalk, I couldn't help but strut. Strut. I was so tempted to place my hands on the tops of my thighs and swing my shoulders as I walked. I did. The looks that people now gave me were absolutely _hysterical_. I probably looked like a glitter glue gun that had gone wild on John Travolta from "Grease", two things that I was completely unaware of until I had officially started seeing Magnus.

Ah, Magnus. Even if I wasn't saying it aloud, his name brought uncalled-for (but not unwanted) happiness to me. It was such a relief that I could be with him whenever I wanted, now that my parents seemed, well, relatively fine with it. I smiled widely, leaning against a lamppost to observe the crowd. I crossed my arms and swung one leg over the other, winking at a group of teenage girls that just passed by. They giggled foolishly.

I had to admit, it was _fun_ being this new me. I could actually let loose instead of avoiding everybody that crossed my path. This must be how Magnus feels all the time. I owed all of this new found confidence to him. Of course, I always felt exceedingly merry after any visit to Magnus, but my last one was different. Today was his birthday, so it was a very special time, but today was his first birthday that he spent with me. And he made sure that it was extra special.

It all started when I had arrived at his apartment…

* * *

With a remote control in my hand, I lounged on one of the brightly-coloured sofas in the living room while waiting for the High Warlock of Brooklyn to return to his apartment. I jabbed the remote in the direction of the television as I perused the many channels. Why is it that all mundanes (and my boyfriend, apparently) cared to watch were sappy sitcoms and ridiculous reality shows? I scowled at one in particular: Young girls and boys who looked to be in their twenties singing their hearts out on live television, and being judged on their performances. I snorted aloud.

"It's called 'American Idol', dear."

I jumped off the couch and whipped out a dagger from my belt, dropping the remote in the process. It must've fallen on the power button, because the T.V. shut off as it hit the floor, cutting off some Adam Lambert mid-song. I knew who the voice belonged to, despite my sudden start – Shadowhunter reflexes. How long had he been standing there? _Looking like a god._ My heart leapt at the sight of him as always, but I still felt the need to tell him off playfully. "Damn it Magnus, don't do that," I said, sheathing my weapon.

Magnus gave a light shrug. "I thought you'd want to know the name of the show." He came over and wrapped his arms around me. He stretched his head back, allowing me to nestle my head into his neck, caressing me gently. "Is there a specific reason as to why you're here?"

I grunted. "Why, you don't want me here?" I was in a beleaguering mood, and besides, I loved teasing him like that. It always made him so apologetic and distressed. It was then that he displayed so much affection towards me.

And he did. Pulling me to the couch with him, he showered my neck with kisses. I leaned against the cushions, moaning quietly, closing my eyes in pleasure. "Magnus," I started to say, but I was cut off as I felt his lips against mine.

"Shhh," he purred, drumming his fingers against the side of my head. "Now, I just want to know the reason for your visit. Is that too much to ask?" Grabbing hold of my shoulders, he flipped me onto my back and crouched down so that both his knees were on either side of me. "And don't start thinking that I don't want you here, because if I could have you with me every waking moment, I would." He pressed his forehead against mine. "Just like this," he breathed.

"Like this?" I laughed. "Just like this?" It earned me a small chuckle. "If somebody saw us now, what will they think?"

Magnus kissed my nose lightly. "What does it matter, love?" Then he captured my mouth in his.

Every time this happened, I always lost myself in him. It was like we were made for each other, and I really believed that we were. I parted my lips to allow his tongue entrance into my mouth. I could feel him exploring, softly touching each tooth. Our lips moved in perfect harmony, with months of practice and experience together showing itself. All that I knew in the world was the angel of sparkling glory that was my Magnus, his smooth and supple lips against mine, coated in some type of fruity – and delicious – paint. It was paint, right?

He pulled away much too soon. "Did you notice something new, dearest?" he smiled.

It was something that only he would ask. "I'm not sure if it's completely obvious, but I'm not exactly the most observant person in the world, especially when it comes to makeup."

"And I _love_ that about you." He attacked my ear then, nibbling at the top as only Magnus would. He paused with his nose upon my earlobe. "It's raspberry coating. My favourite store just got a new shipment," he whispered. "Like it?"

Instead of responding, I shivered when his breath touched my skin.

Magnus laughed. In one swift movement, he rolled off the couch and snatched me up into his arms. _My strong, strong and perfect warlock._ He carried me to his bedroom as if we were a newly-wed couple. Chairman Meow greeted us at the entrance with an annoyed growl, or what passed for one, anyway. (It really sounded more like a distressed snort.) Magnus shoved him to the side with his foot – none too gently, I might add – and walked in.

Still bearing that chuckle, he set me down onto his bed as tenderly as a mother would to her newborn baby. "Sweet, sweet, baby," he cooed accordingly, as if guessing my thoughts. I moaned upon hearing him call me baby – he knew I _really_ liked that.

He stoked my cheek with the back of his hand. "Did I ever tell you how incredibly smooth and ravishing your skin is?"

"Maybe once or twice."

I wanted more of him, _much more_ of him, and the only way I could get that was through teasing, but to my dismay, he only hopped onto the bed beside me and wrapped me in a warm embrace – alright, not to my total dismay. "You know Alexander," he murmured, looking into my eyes, "today is my birthday."

"Would you believe that that's exactly the reason why I came here?" And it wasn't a lie, too. I _did_ know that it was his special day, and I was surprised that the High Warlock of Brooklyn didn't guess that I knew. Well, maybe he did. "I wanted to give you your present."

I saw his eyes light up instantly as soon as the words were out of my mouth. "Really? What is it?"

Smiling my widest smile, I said plainly, "Me." When Magnus continued to look lovingly into my eyes, I said, "Whatever you want do with me, I'll be fine. I'll love every minute of it. Go ahead. I'm yours. Today is your birthday, so you deserve to do anything that you want."

I knew what I wanted right now, and what I wanted was him. _My Magnus._ I wanted every bit of him, and why couldn't he see that? How many times had I came over unexpectedly in hopes of blissfully making my oppressions disappear – and no doubt about it, Magnus _would_ make them disappear. But for some reason, he just didn't get it. Instead there was a little spark of something else in his eyes, a little flame of something. With a sudden rush of dread I realized what it was.

_An idea._

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 will be posted shortly!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luckily, I found some spare time in this hellish week to post this! :)

Magnus kissed me quickly – but not without a fiery passion – and jumped off the bed in what could only be described as a giddy fashion. He raced over to his closet and threw a number of articles of clothing onto the bed next to me. "Well, what a splendid present, darling," he said while chucking things at me. "You know, you have the most wonderful ideas. Mine is pretty grandiose too, if I do say so myself."

"Oh, really?" I said, sitting up and trying not to let the fear show through my voice. All that I could see before me was an endless pile of rainbow. And sparkles. _Lots and lots of sparkles._ The terror was starting to sink in.

"Mmhmm," Magnus said, and waltzed over to stand next to the bed. Spreading his arms wide, he declared in a gleeful voice, "I'm giving you a MAKEOVER!"

I had already guessed what he was going to say, but he had said that last word with such delight that I regretted having felt nervous. Today was _his_ birthday, and he deserved everything he wanted. I managed to put on a happy expression and said, slowly at first, "Sooo…where are we starting?"

Magnus gave a small squeak of delight – which was very un-Magnus-like in my book – and pounced upon the pile of clothes. "Green? Purple? Oh, I don't remember picking up this little number." My eyes widened at the sight of a hot pink tank top underneath a black fish net top, decorated with a large black leather belt.

"No, no, no," he said, stuffing it at the bottom as I sighed with relief. "Oh! Look at this!"

And he brought out a black vest. It looked like one of his Victorian gentleman vests, complete with the little pockets and buttons. Except this one was noticeably Magnus. Very Magnus. The vest was completely covered in black sequins. The pockets were covered similarly, except that they were silver. A simple white collar adorned the top of the vest, and the buttons shone with blue glitter. I flinched away from the thing involuntarily.

"And it would look _lovely_ on top of this!" he said, and pulled out a deep blue dress shirt that sparkled everywhere. I wouldn't have been surprised if the tag had read " _1% Cotton, 99% Glitter_ ".

"Oh, come _on_ , Alexander," Magnus said imploringly, upon seeing the look of extreme distaste on my face that I had been trying so desperately to hide. "We haven't even gotten to the best part!"

I gulped.

He ducked under the bed and pulled out a slim white box with spidery silver writing engraved on it. Magnus made sure to make a fine show of lifting the top of the box off and tossing it to the side. Then, as elegantly as he could, he picked the garment up and drew it out of the box ever so slowly so I could clearly see…

"RAINBOW LEATHER PANTS?!" My mouth fell wide open in almost-mock horror. "Magnus! Are you serious?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Actually, I am. And I expect you to put this entire ensemble on right now," he smirked.

I knew it was his birthday, but there was no way that I was getting into _rainbow leather pants_. "B-b-but Magnus, isn't it kind of, u-um, c-cl-clashing with the shirt?" I tried to sound like I knew the clothes didn't compliment each other when in reality, I had no idea what would match with what.

Magnus laughed light-heartedly. "Honey, don't doubt me. Besides, that's the whole point of _rainbow_." He threw the vest, shirt, and pants at my face. "Now change. _Right here, right now_."

Even if I knew he meant to say it nicely, there was no hiding the tiny hint of malice in his voice – or maybe it was mischief. Yeah, definitely mischief. But he couldn't possibly be serious, I mean, _rainbow leather pants_?

Magnus probably saw the refusal that was clearly displayed upon my face, because just then, he crept up to me and draped himself across my shoulder. "Please?" he murmured enticingly, grazing his fingers across my chest and sticking out his lower lip. "For me?"

As hard as I tried, I just could not withstand that look on his face. _Come on_ , Alec, I willed myself. _Resist!_ But the High Warlock of Brooklyn wasn't somebody that one could easily resist. Well, maybe I was the only one. Oh, when had I become so weak?

With a deep sigh, I stood up from the bed and spread the clothes out in front of me. Magnus's face lit up with delight. He settled into a cross-legged position next to the pile. "Come on! Let me see you put it on!" he said, his eyes showing his clear anticipation to see me in something that wasn't as drab as my usual clothes.

I had gotten quite used to undressing in front of Magnus – and wasn't he the one to do the undressing for me every night that I spent here? – so I didn't feel embarrassed about stripping my clothes off. What really irked me was the thought of putting something tight and _sparkly_ on.

So there I was, standing in my underwear, trying to figure out where to start. "Ooo, put the pants on first!" Magnus said.

Wanting to please my boyfriend, I grabbed the silly excuse for leg-wear off the bed and held them up at my thighs. I was surprised at the way they seemed to be _exactly_ my size as Magnus was obviously taller than me. "Uh, Magnus? These aren't yours, are they?"

"Why, of course not, dearest. I took the liberty of going out by myself and buying you an entire new wardrobe because I knew you needed a complete makeover." He gestured at the pile of clothes. "I just had to wait for you to give in and let me dress you up," he said hurriedly. "Now what the hell are you waiting for? If I had known better, and I do, believe me, you're stalling. So put those pants on!"

So ever so reluctantly, I raised my left leg…

_THUMP_

"Alexander, _what_ are you doing on the floor?"

"Trying to get into this death trap that you call pants!" I growled. I lay on the floor, on my side, in an extremely awkward position. My leg was halfway into the pants, and I was almost curled into a ball with my arms almost at my shoulders. "How is it even _possible_ to put these on?"

Magnus walked up behind me and crouched down. "You're doing it all wrong, that's the problem."

"Oh, so there's a right way?"

I turned my head back just in time to see Magnus roll his eyes. "Come on, Alexander, if I can do it, you can too."

I was about to say something snappy in response, but just then, Magnus grabbed my right leg and shoved it in the pants. He took the waistline and pulled me up. I gasped aloud as I felt my legs being gripped tight by the pants. He whipped me around to look me in the eye. "See? All you needed was a little help."

"Magnus," I grunted.

He eyed me expectantly. "What?"

I had planned to yell at him about how stupid he was to have come up with this stupid idea of dressing me up like I was a brand new doll that had come with a wardrobe of clothing and accessories, and how plain _stupid_ he could be sometimes.

But then saw his eyes, his brilliant cat-eyes ringed with makeup. I saw the way they were sparkling, _sparkling_ , as he stared at me. He didn't look at everybody the same way that he was looking at me right now, with…love, even if it was laced in with a little bit of quirkiness. I couldn't let him down, no matter how much I loathed to be standing in rainbow leather pants, on his birthday.

How could I have ever thought of him as _stupid_?

I sighed deeply. "Move so I can put the shirt on."

He smiled brightly and grabbed the garment from off of the bed. "Allow me, love," he said, unbuttoning the shirt. "Now hold up your arms."

I obeyed reluctantly as he slid the shirt on me and buttoned it back up. He slowly smoothed down the crinkles on my chest with both hands. "It fits perfectly," he murmured so quietly that I wasn't even sure that he had said it. "Get the vest."

I snatched it up in my hands and put it on hastily. "Uh, Magnus?"

"What?"

"Is everything supposed to be so _tight_?"

All he did was cross his arms and chuckle.

I fidgeted where I stood. "Especially in, uh, certain places." I jumped when he squeezed me in one of those certain places.

He placed his hands on either side of my face. "It's _fine_. Trust me. And stop squirming!" He grabbed both of my wrists and brought them together. "All we need to do now is dress you up."

My jaw dropped. "But Magnus! Aren't we already finished?"

Magnus burst out laughing. "Oh, Alexander! You could be so funny sometimes." Then he dragged me to the other side of his room. "Now sit down."

I had thought that an ensemble of rainbow leather pants, a sequined vest, and a blue dress shirt had been Magnus's worst idea ever. But as I got closer and closer to the small table that was pushed against the wall, my eyes widening with every step, I realized how terribly wrong I was.

Oh, the things I do for the people I love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 shall be up soon! 
> 
> Cheers. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV switch for this chapter. As done on FF.net, this chapter is dedicated to FF.net user summerchic40 (who I'm not entirely sure is still active, but if she is, I haven't forgotten your appreciation for this fic!).
> 
> My disclaimer, taken directly from my FF.net posting:  
> "I don't own the Mortal Instruments. If I did, there would be more Magnus and Alec, and less creepy, pseudo-incestuous Jace and Clary action." -Bulls in Brooklyn (who is a great writer - check out "What Alec Forgot", another great M/A fanfic)

Don't get me wrong, I love Alec and all, but he isn't exactly the type of person to step up to the plate and put together something extravagant on any occasion (which is why I'm still a little puzzled as to how the hell he was able to kiss me that day in the Accords Hall in front of everybody, including his parents). Alright, maybe that's a little of an overstatement. He _does_ like being in control during, er, the night. Or sometimes it's the day. Then again, there was that one time after dinner…

Stop it, Bane. You're thought-rambling again.

The point is that what Alec "gave" me earlier on today was unexpected, yet perfect.

I had woken up today, thinking, "Happy birthday, Magnus. You're another year older. Just a few more years and you'll hit the big nine-oh-oh." After which followed the daily morning routine of jumping out of bed, pulling on my favourite leopard-print bathrobe, hopping into a nice warm shower, dressing into my designated birthday outfit (which wasn't exactly part of my every-day routine), throwing some makeup on, gelling my hair up into it's usual spikes, settling down to a bowl of cereal, and phoning Alec on his cell (I still was a tad bit uncertain of whether or not I call the Institute and risk speaking to an angry Robert or Maryse Lightwood). The phone had rung a few times before the answering machine picked it up and Alec's recorded voice was heard. "Hi, sorry I'm not there. Leave a message." Beep. He could be so _drab_ sometimes.

It was odd for him not to pick up his phone, especially if it was me calling (the boy did have caller ID, right?). So I had tried again, only to get the same result. After much thought and deliberation, I had decided to try the Institute's number—all the while crossing my fingers and hoping that his parents wouldn't answer—and got nothing. Determined to talk to Alec, I had tried one last time—and that time I had crossed my fingers as well as Chairman Meow's whiskers for extra luck—and suppressed a cry of joy when somebody picked up the phone. I sighed in disappointment when Isabelle began to speak: "Hello? Magnus? Is that you?"

Hmm, so the Institute _did_ have caller ID. "The one and only. Why, are there any other exceptionally marvelous and perfectly magnificent beings with the name Magnus Bane strutting about? If there is, I'd very much like to know," I had replied. When there was no response except for an exasperated sigh, I continued: "Isabelle, would you mind putting Alec on the phone? He's not answering his cell."

"Sorry Mr. Exceptionally Marvelous and Perfectly Magnificent," Isabelle said. "Alec's not here. He's out with Mom and Dad. I could call them if you'd like—"

"No!" I cried, startling Chairman Meow into yowling and sinking his claws into my ankle. I had swatted him onto the floor with my free hand. "And don't call me that. It makes you sound like a dim-wit. I wouldn't want you diving down to that level on which Mr. Tall, Blonde, and Brainless also sits. Just give me a shout when he returns." I had hung up then, not giving her a chance to reply.

It had puzzled me as to what Alec was doing out with his parents, and why he hadn't called or texted me that he was going to be out. I had a right to know, and I still do! Teenagers could be so naïve at times. He was going to receive a serious talking-to when he returned to this apartment. I sighed deeply and picked up a mewling Chairman Meow off the floor, placing him on my chest as I put my feet up on the couch. His eyes met mine, big and amber as he stared at me in an attempt to look cute. "Nice try, Meow," I had said without plaintiveness. "Nobody can beat that deep oceanic blueness of—"

I had been cut off as he leapt at my face and stuck a minuscule paw into my mouth, scratching at the side of one of my teeth and nearly ripping off a lip piercing. "Shit," I muttered as I shook him off me. "Stupid cat." I hastened to replace the piercing to its proper position as Chairman Meow glared at me with a Since-When-Did-I-Become-Second-Banana-To-A-Filthy- Human kind of look. "Since you ran away last year at your last and final birthday party that I'll throw you and that silly group of Nephilim showed up at my doorstep," I said.

He had scrunched up his tiny nose in an annoyed matter, turned, and stalked off towards the kitchen. I could hear the sound of little claws as they scratched at the cupboard which he knew held his kitty food. Muttering about how needy pets could be, I had went and given the cat whichever treat he had wanted, then sat at the kitchen table watching him play with it. "Thanks for wishing me 'Happy Birthday' Meow," I had said, resting my head on my hand. The last thing I remembered before slipping into a not-so-deep sleep was the sound of keys turning the lock at my door.

I think I had woken up just as a thickly-accented British voice finished its rant about the poor quality of somebody else's singing on American Idol. Then another victim—I liked to think of the contestants of "victims" as they really are victims, considering the fact that they are at the mercy of a couple "judges" and the whole of America—launched into their rendition of some 70's ballad. Knowing it was Alec, I had gotten up quietly from my chair and had snuck over behind the couch that my beloved was so casually stretched across. The rest was all willy-nilly. Forgetting about how puzzled I was about him being out with his parents without telling me, I had gotten him into my bedroom, and lo-and-behold, he revealed that he did in fact remember my birthday, and that he had planned on giving _himself_ to me for my present. Always the charmer, that boy. I remember his complete horror after hearing that I was to give him a makeover. After which followed the dress shirt, vest, and the special pants that I had saved for just the right time.

Now, Alec sat at my vanity table staring at the pots of paint and makeup as if they were Hell's gates waiting to swallow him up. I chuckled and placed a light kiss on his cheek. "Where would you like to start, darling?"

Not moving his gaze, he said, "Magnus, is this all _really_ necessary?"

"If you'd like me to be happy on my birthday, then yes," I replied, stroking his hair, "it is." Ignoring the slight shudder that passed through his body, I moved to grab my scissors off the corner of the table. "First things first, dear, before we start with the makeup: We _need_ to cut your hair." I held up a lock and regarded it with strong distaste, making sure that Alec saw my face in the mirror. "When was the last time it was cut?"

"I… I don't remember," he said.

"Imagine that." I bunched his hair—which was all the way down to his shoulders now—into two sections and pinched one between my fingers. "Hmm," I thought aloud, tapping the scissors against my face. "Four inches would be _much_ too short, and just giving you a small trim wouldn't be enough. Maybe two and a half should be good for what I plan to do."

"What?" snapped Alec, almost startling me into dropping the scissors. "What do you plan to do?"

I grinned and proceeded with snipping off bit by bit of his beautiful black hair. "Well, I've seen you eyeing me more than enough times, Alexander, and I can tell by the look on your face that you would _die_ for hair like mine. So, I'm granting your wish and will be putting some spikes in it once I finish. Now, that's already two wishes: One, you got me, and two, this."

"Magnus!" Alec cried, eyes widening. "How do you know that I even _want_ spikes?"

"Like I said before, darling, I just know that you'd die for hair just like mine. And that doesn't give you my permission to go drop dead whenever you need some gel, mind you." _Snip, snip, snip._

"Why would I _ever_ want to drop dead?"

"Why would I _ever_ want to waltz with Jace whilst wearing a coconut bra and a hula skirt? Both rhetorical questions, darling. Besides, you _have_ been looking a little sunken lately. Anything happening in your life that I need to know about?" I said, ruffling his head to rid it of any stray clippings and returning to my work, then remembering his whereabouts earlier on today. "Anything that has to do with your parents?"

Alec chuckled lightly, a movement that even my expertise didn't anticipate and caused me to cut off a couple strands of hair that I didn't intend to. "Who told you?"

"Isabelle," I said. "I had finally mustered up whatever courage was needed to phone the Institute, and called, expecting your Mom or Dad on the phone, and ended up speaking to your sister. You owe me."

"Magnus!" he laughed. "What's so bad about Isabelle?"

"Nothing," I said, a smile playing on my lips. "I just wish that she would stop dreaming about how incredibly soft and silky my hair is." _Just a few more snips…_ "And after she sees you, she'll _lust_ after yours." Tossing my scissors behind me—and pretending that the screech I heard wasn't Chairman Meow being the victim of that toss—I reached for the tall purple bottle of styling gel. "Spikes?" I asked.

Alec gawked at my reflection in the mirror. "If I say no, will you still give me them?"

"You know me," I replied, starting to squeeze some gel into my hands, "I only do what you allow me to do." Reveling in the look of extreme distaste on Alec's face, I started to massage the gel into Alec's newly cut hair. "And if I remember correctly, you said that I could do whatever I wanted to do with you, right?" I began to style his hair into my infamous spiky do, ignoring the fact that I probably would've preferred him with his hair down. _Whatever. He looks hot no matter what hairstyle I put him in._

"For your birthday," Alec reminded me. God, that boy was so technical. "Only for your birthday."

Obviously, he didn't even notice the fact that I was finished with his hair. Ignorant little bastard. "Since when were you _ever_ able to tame me?" I said before crouching down to his level and locking our lips together. He responded hungrily, leaning further towards me and wrapping his arms around my head, twisting my hair into knots. "Now, now, little Shadowhunter." I pulled away, leaving him sitting there glaring at me. "Watch the hair."

"Magnus!" wheezed Alec, still catching his breath. That boy was going to start being ticketed for over-usage of my name.

I rolled my eyes casually. "Well, I'll take that as thanks for what I've done to your otherwise dead hair."

He followed my gaze to his reflection in the mirror. I watched as his jaw dropped, not that I couldn't blame him, of course. I _had_ done a marvelous job: Not a single strand of Alec's hair was out of place. Each stood up in spikes around his head, much like mine. "Wow," he breathed. Well, that was totally out-of-character.

"Yeah," I whispered, "I _am_ gorgeous."

Alec shoved me lightly aside. "I was saying 'wow' because my hair looks so much like yours! You know, all spiky and sparkly-like."

"Spiky and sparkly-like?" I inquired. "At least now I know what people think when they see me. 'Oh, there goes that incredibly sexy dude with the spiky and sparkly-like hair.'"

While Alec sat chuckling, I took a handful of powder from the table and threw it in his face. "Makeup time!" I cried.

"Damn it, Magnus!" Alec coughed, rubbing at his face. "Did you have to do that?"

"Calm down, sweetie, there are worse things in life," I said, reaching for the eyeliner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 up will be up soon!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On FF.net, my beginning A/N consisted of some breaking MI news, including the adaption of the books into graphic novels, the OPTIONING of CoB film rights, and the announcement of CoFA. Look how far we've come, and how many more feels we've experienced as a fandom. *hugs everyone*

"You know what this is, right?" I waved the pencil back and forth in front of Alec's face. "Surely you've encountered the infamous eyeliner before?"

He stared at it in horror. "Do I _look_ like the sort of person that would wear it?"

"Well, no. The vibe you give off isn't exactly 'wow' material, sweetie. You should be appalled"—I smacked him softly in the head—"at your appearance as it was before you arrived!" I threw my hands up into the air in almost-mock exasperation.

Alec shook his head in a manner that stated, "This is just what I expect to come from you, yet here I am still being shocked by it." He opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it immediately.

"What is it, darling?" I asked, caressing his cheek. Hmm, the boy _did_ have such soft skin. Sometimes I wondered whether or not he woke up early in the morning to deep-cleanse and moisturize.

He shifted from side to side nervously in the stool, blushing. Shit Alec, did you really have to blush? He was always so attractive when he blushed, and he _knew_ that I couldn't resist him when he did. "Damn you, child," I said teasingly, setting the eyeliner pencil down onto the table and sinking down onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around me almost immediately, pulling me closer, nestling his head into the crook of my neck. "Alec," I whispered, "your hair is still in its spikes. You wouldn't want one of those horrid dents in the side, would you?"

Alec groaned and brought his head back so that our noses were touching. "Better?" he asked, glaring at me with those beautiful blue eyes of his.

"That's your decision. Personally, I enjoy this position _much_ better, as it allows me to do this," I said, before leaning forward and pressing our lips together. He moaned against me, his tongue darting out to touch my lower lip, begging for entrance. I parted my lips slightly to give him his wish—this boy had some _serious_ needs—and grasped the table behind me to keep myself from falling over. What was _with_ Alec these days?

Suddenly, I was jerked apart from him as a felt a sharp pain lance up my arm from the hand on the table. I whipped my head around and, lo-and-behold, Chairman Meow was looking daggers at me from atop a compact mirror. _How the hell did he get up there?_ Then I remembered that he was a cat—stupid feline pests and their freakish jumping abilities; I really needed a higher vanity table. I returned his cold look, narrowing my eyes, before jumping up and socking him on his back. "Damn cat!" I yelled, ignoring the look of hatred and annoyance that he gave me. "Typical of your idiotic race." I eyed Alec. "See, honey, this is why there are were _wolves_ and not were _lions_ or were _tigers_. You get my drift."

I went back to glowering at Chairman Meow, who was still perched on that mirror. Insistent son of bitch—well, not really, since his mom was a cat. I think. "What the hell are you doing, Meow?" I questioned him, placing my hands upon my hips.

His response came in the form of another dirty look, one that said, "What does it look like I'm doing, idiot?"

I stared at him in anger and confuzzlement.

The cat made this strange movement with his eyes (which I later came to accept as his form of eye-rolling) and scratched at the compact mirror insistently. "Idiot cat," I muttered, picking him up and dropping him on the floor. I took the mirror in my hands, opened it, and examined my face. Marvelous, as always. The entire amount of flattery in the world is _not_ enough for what I deserved. I turned the mirror left and right to get a better view when I saw Alec's reflection and came to a dirty realization—perhaps the cat _is_ good for something. Tossing the mirror on the table, I whirled on him. "You," I said, waving a finger around in a circle in his direction. "I know what you're up to."

He suddenly became very interested with his knees. "Uh," he cleared his throat, "wh-wh-what am I up to?" Alec was _actually_ nervous now; I could tell by the way he was blushing. Silly boy, that was _not_ going to work on me this time.

Well, maybe it was.

I crouched down to his level and stared him in the eye. His big, beautiful, oceanic blue eyes…

Whoa, Bane. Focus.

I put on a dirty smirk and placed a finger upon his nose. "You," I said menacingly, "are stalling. Stal- _ling_."

All thoughts of attempting to postpone his makeover must've left him, because Alec went from sly and emanate to imploring. "Please, Magnus!" he begged, face falling. "Please don't make me go through that"—he pointed at the scores of makeup material on the vanity table—"kind of torture!"

Oh, how cute he was when he begged. "That's it, love, keep going. You _know_ that it's not going to work. Nothing's gonna stop me from achieving my goal."

"Goal?"

"Please, Alexander, _surely_ you know by now what my goal is." I faced our reflections in the mirror and placed an arm around his shoulder. "To make you"—I waved my hands to the side in a revealing manner—"GORGEOUS!"

I swear, if I hadn't been holding him up he would've fallen over. "Oh, come now." I picked up the eyeliner pencil again. "You've already gotten through the clothes and the hair. Makeup is a _cinch_."

"Really?" The boy sounded doubtful.

"Really." I shoved the pencil into his hand. "Now, you can play with that, my little Nephilim. We won't be needing it at the moment." Chuckling to myself as he industriously examined the tiny words on the eyeliner, I turned towards the table. Damn, did I have a lot of stuff. This is what I get for carrying my Visa with me everywhere I go. It was _definitely_ going to be a long and tireless task choosing the right bits of makeup for my baby.

Hold on just a spit-licken' minute.

I skipped—which I normally wouldn't do, but it's not like Alec would mind; he was still so entranced by the magic pencil—over to my bed and got to my knees, rummaging around in the massive mess under the mattress. (Haha, massive mess under the mattress; I was the _master_ of alliteration.) I had so many boxes here that I had carelessly kicked under my bed from designer stores and warehouses. My eyes fell upon a large D &G tote that had yet to be unwrapped—why the hell would it be under here?—but ignored it after remembering the matter at hand. I hummed to myself as I searched for that blue hat box that just _had_ to be here somewhere. See Magnus, this is why the housemaids refuse to come to your apartment.

Ah. There it is… At the very back. Typical that Alec had to wait so long.

I pulled the hat box out and walked back to the vanity table. "Ba-ack," I sang merrily, as Alec looked up from his in-depth analysis of the eyeliner. "Missed me?"

He gave a small smile, which left as quickly as it had come when he saw the box in my hands. "What's that?" he asked ruefully.

I snickered. "Wait for it…" Then I flipped off the lid with a large sweep of my arm. "TA-DA!"

I _needed_ a camera to capture the priceless look of shock and horror on Alec's face. "Magnus!" he cried, throwing the pencil onto the table. Strike one on his ticket of over-using my name.

"Alec!" I shouted in his face. Two can play at this game.

" _What_ in the Angel's name are those?" he questioned me, pointing at the stuff in the box.

I acted as if I had no idea what he was talking about. "What in the Angel's name are _those_?" I pointed at his eyebrows, placing the box on the table.

He stared at me incredulously. I guess he gave up.

"Darling, if we're gonna dress your face up, we have to get rid of those bushman eyebrows." I grabbed a pair of tweezers out of the hat box. "Ready?"

Twelve minutes and twenty-seven screams of "Ow! Damn it, Magnus!" later, Alec had two perfectly-plucked eyebrows that followed the curve of his eyes beautifully. "You, darling, are too lucky that I'm not charging you for this sort of perfection," I said.

He pressed his face against the mirror and examined his eyebrows. I could tell that he was trying to hide a smile. "Well, I wouldn't have paid."

 _Yeah, you're welcome._ The ungrateful prick. "You're right. Jace would've," I said, shrugging. "Now for the real deal." I regarded the contents of the hat box. So many different things to try. I mentally praised myself for thinking of going out to all of my favourite stores in the mall and buying Alec everything that I needed for a makeover—I had always figured that _someday_ he would allow me to dress him up. I had selected several types of exclusive designer makeup for Alec, all which I knew would compliment each other when applied to his complexion, and had placed them in this hat box. A sparkly blue hat box, to represent his lovely eyes. Chairman Meow should be jealous.

I chose a jar out of the box and held it out for Alec to see. "This," I said, waving it in front of his face, "is powder. You should be familiar with it; I hear it's _wonderful_ for keeping babies' bums smooth." I would've smacked his ass, but he was sitting, and he knew me enough to be lucky that he was. "However, this isn't that kind of powder." I scrunched my face up. "Hopefully this will add a little colour to your otherwise pale complexion."

Alec cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean by that?"

"You'll see," I smirked, grabbing the sponge. "Close your eyes."

He closed them, but I could see him flinching away from me involuntarily. I rolled my eyes, dabbing the sponge into the powder jar and onto his face. He cringed at first, then relaxed after a couple of seconds. "See?" I soothed him. "It isn't that bad."

Once I drew back and replaced the jar to its original spot in the hat box, Alec opened his eyes and tried to peek around me to see his reflection in the mirror. Did he _really_ think he would be able to see his wondrous new image so soon? I immediately spread my arms wide, blocking his vision. "Ah-ah-ah," I said, tapping his nose. "Not so fast. We still have a long way to go."

The boy still wouldn't stop his attempts to dodge around me. Oh, so _now_ he was eager to see what I did to him. "Why not?" he whined.

I snickered. "Ooo, you _know_ I like it when you beg." I trailed my fingers across his cheek. "Sadly, we don't have time to play yet."

Alec's face fell visibly as I went back to the hat box. "Hmm, what should we do now?" My fingers found their own way to a three large jars… I took one in my fingers and twirled it around. "I wonder what colour would look best on you?" I thought aloud.

He managed to get a glimpse of the items in my hands. "What the hell are those?" he asked.

"Eye shadow," I said plainly. "If you ask me, a good coat of smoky grey will make those sapphire eyes of yours pop-op." I smacked my lips to make a popping noise. "How does that sound?"

Alec bit his lip uncomfortably and sighed. "Just tell me when it's over," he said, closing his eyes.

True, it wasn't as fun when he wasn't protesting against my ideas anymore, but it did make my job a lot easier. It was a piece of cake to smudge some eye shadow on his upper lid and the area under the eyebrows. My, my, my, why didn't I ever consider becoming a cosmetician? Oh right. It didn't pay as much as my current job did, and I would never have been able to afford such an exquisite toilet. Plus, being High Warlock had certain perks that could not be obtained from applying makeup to women's faces, I thought, smirking as I finished smearing the makeup. Alec would never have known me, but neither would Mr. Tall, Blonde and Brainless, as I referred to him on the phone with Isabelle, have.

"Done?"

"Not quite yet, dear." I seized the eyeliner pencil in my hand. "Open those pretty peepers of yours, Alexander."

He did, reluctantly. "I don't look bad, do I?"

I rolled my eyes, annoyed. Where was the _trust_? "It depends on what you consider 'bad', dear. Do you mean 'bad' as in Pamela Anderson-plunging neckline bad, or 'bad' as in Jace in all of his normality bad?" I spun the pencil around with my fingers. "Eyeliner time!"

I ignored the groan from Alec and began to apply the eyeliner to his lids. He winced upon feeling the tip of the pencil in such a sensitive place. "Stop being such a chicken," I chided him softly, finishing my job.

"Is it over?"

I smirked. "You must know that I delight in your misery. Perhaps, since you always seem so _down_ after I speak with them, I should inform your parents about your little present, hmm? How about that?"

Ha. That shut him up, the little whining hottie.

But it was a bit, hmm, _odd_ playing dress-up with him while he was mute. He was quiet during the mascara, quiet during the blush, and quiet during the lipstick.

"Um, Magnus?"

I grinned at him. "It speaks. What, dear?"

Alec's eyes widened in embarrassment, and I could still see the red of his cheeks underneath the makeup. "There's no sp-sp-sparkles, is there?"

My eyes widened in turn from a sudden plan. "Thanks for the brilliant idea, darling," I whispered in his ear.

He muttered something incomprehensible in response.

"What was that, hon?"

"I can't be that much of an asshole to deserve that sort of torture, am I?"

"No, but you should've expected it," I said, rolling my eyes. "Now close those beautiful baby blues"—ha, another splendid alliteration—"so that I can put them on you."

I grabbed a pot of body glitter and a brush out of the hat box, spreading it all over Alec's lovely face. _Yummy_ , I thought to myself. Having ended the glittery task, nothing stopped me from leaning down and locking lips with him. He grasped the back of my neck, pulling me closer until I nearly stumbled from the sudden change in stature. The need for oxygen came quickly, damn it, and we were forced to break apart. "Ready to see your gorgeously-improved face, darling?" I asked, gasping for air.

"Should I be scared?" he replied, taking several deep breaths.

My answering grin was full of love and pride. I slid out of the way to allow Alec a look at himself in the mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised my FF.net reviewers virtual Magnus glitter, so... Glitter to those who give kudos? :)


	5. Chapter 5

Alec POV

Not his best idea.

Not his best idea.

_Not his best idea._

**_Not his best idea._ **

**_NOT HIS FRICKING BEST IDEA._ **

Was this some crazy sort of form of warlock entertainment? Did Downworlders _like_ putting us Nephilim through this sort of torture? Or did they only do it to the ones they loved? Well, not literally _do it_ , but still.

Screw the bitches that invented makeup.

Screw them and their sick, twisted minds.

But I knew that I had to suck it up. For Magnus. For my sweet, loving Magnus.

I held my mouth shut as he danced around me, applying the rest of the makeup to my face. Partly because he played the parent card and I didn't feel like explaining just yet about our escapade earlier on today; partly because I was afraid of blurting out something truthfully hurtful and upsetting to Magnus.

Then I realized something.

He had planned _everything_ out. Didn't he say that he had "taken the liberty of going out and buying me a whole new wardrobe"? Didn't he just doll me up with makeup materials that he had selected specifically for me? Didn't he say that there was a jar of strawberry body spread in the cupboard waiting to be opened tonight?

Wait. Scratch that.

But the first two bits of evidence were true! Which meant that there just _had_ to be a third horror waiting to be unleashed. Something worse than the clothes and the makeup. Something… sparkly. "Um, Magnus?" I asked tentatively.

"It speaks," he said, grinning at me. "What, dear?"

My eyes widened involuntarily. I wasn't exactly sure as to whether or not glitter _was_ involved in his plan to make me gorgeous—if that was even possible—and I didn't want to risk bringing it up if it wasn't. I blushed deeply as I thought of the consequences if I decided to mention glitter. Then again, there was no harm in asking, was there? "There's no sp-sp-sparkles, is there?" I stuttered out.

Magnus' cat eyes grew with the conception of a new addition to his plan. "Thanks for the brilliant idea, darling," he whispered in my ear.

Damn it, Alec. Why couldn't you just listen to the little voice in your head telling you to just ignore the question? _Because the same little voice was the one telling me to stay away from a sparkly Downworlder._ When did my life get so _complicated_? "I can't be that much of an asshole to deserve that sort of torture, am I?" I muttered.

"What was that, hon?"

I repeated myself, the fear of body glitter growing.

Magnus rolled his eyes. "No, but you should've expected it. Now close those beautiful baby blues so that I can put them on you." He grabbed a large jar and a brush out of the hat box and proceeded to spread the glitter all over my face—I resisted the urge to sneeze and spit out the stray sparkles that had made their way into my mouth. Instead, I concentrated on Magnus' expression as he applied the glitter. His eyes were focused on my face, intent on making sure that everything came out perfect. True, I did prefer it when he wore his hair dark and straight, his face free of makeup and piercings—alright, I enjoyed the piercings, particularly the one in his tongue—but I had never really taken the time to fully _appreciate_ the product of his hour-long sessions that he spent working on _his_ own self. The way his purple eye shadow made his eyes pop, the way his lipstick made his lips appear full and _luscious_ , the way his lime-green tank top contrasted against his tan skin, the way his tight leather pants hugged his lean legs perfectly…

My musing was cut off abruptly as I felt Magnus' lips crush onto mine. I grasped the back of his neck, pulling him closer and delighting in the intimate moment until the need for oxygen became crucial, and we were forced to break apart. "Ready to see your gorgeously-improved face, darling?" Magnus asked, gasping for air.

I took several deep breaths before replying, "Should I be scared?"

Magnus' answering grin was full of love and pride as he slid out of the way to allow me a look at myself in the mirror.

Even the thickest glass in the world would've cracked under my scream.

* * *

Isabelle POV

"Where _is_ he?" I demanded, taking long, loud strides into the library. "He _clearly_ stated that he would be back by seven so that we could eat. And look what time it is!"

Clary glanced at the large analog clock on the wall. "Seven-o-six," she said simply.

I glared at her. "Exactly!" I cried, slamming my fist into the wall. "He's _six minutes late_! Alec is _never_ late!"

"Actually," said Jace, appearing from behind a shelf of books, "Alec is _seven_ minutes late. Don't you girls even bother to count the little marks?"

I was so tempted to pull out my whip and use it on him. "SHUT UP JACE!" I screamed. "Alec's not here! Can't you be the _least_ bit concerned for our brother?"

"Re- _lax_ ," Jace said, settling down on the couch beside Clary. "If anybody can take care of themselves—besides me, of course—it's Alec. Remember the time we left him alone with that Drevak nest?" He ducked as a vase came flying towards his head.

"JACE!" I yelled, stamping my foot into the ground so hard that I was sure there would be an indent from my heel. "Alec was nearly _killed_ that time! And it was all _your_ fault!"

"Um, Izzy?" Clary called my name meekly. "Somebody's coming up the elevator."

I whirled on her, my eyes still blazing fury from my hissy fit aimed at Jace. "What?" I snapped, not quite sure that I had heard her correctly.

"I said somebody's coming up the elevator."

I locked eyes with Jace and gave him a menacing look. "You had better hope that that's Alec, or else you can kiss your sorry ass goodbye."

I stalked out into the hallway and ran towards the elevator, rattling the gates until it rose up to reveal a familiar face. "Alec!" I cried, jumping and wrapping my arms around him tightly as he stumbled out of the elevator.

"Hi, Izzy," he gasped. "Would you mind letting go? It's a little hard to breathe."

"Oh, sorry." I released him from my death grip and stared him in the eyes. _Hard._ Then screamed. "WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU?"

He shrunk away from me. "N-n-nothing," he stammered.

Yeah. Nothing stopping me from slapping him full on the cheek. "Something damn well happened to you!" I shouted in his face, then relaxed, grabbing him by the shoulders. "You look _gorgeous_." And I wasn't lying, either. Alec looked _nothing_ like he usually did, what with the ugly brown—there was no denying the fact that everything he owned wasn't black anymore—sweaters, the tattered pants, the mussed-up hair. Instead, somebody had given him a full-on makeover. "Dress shirt? Sequined vest? _Rainbow leather pants?_ " I inquired, not really sure if I was asking him or if I was asking myself to clarify what stood before me.

"Um, yeah."

"And your hair! It's so…"

"Spiky and sparkly-like?" he filled in with a grin as we headed back to the library.

"Well, yes! And you're wearing _makeup_." This was not my brother. Since when did Alec wear smoky-grey eye shadow, _eyeliner_ , shock-blue lipstick, _mascara_ , and was that blush? But worst of all, his entire visage was covered in, dare I say it, _glitter_! "Alec! Who _did_ this to you?"

He only smiled and continued on towards the library, leaving me trailing behind by a couple of steps. "Isn't it obvious?"

"That whoever is responsible for your new appearance is also responsible for your complete change in personality? A little bit." Alec was never sarcastic.

I received nothing in reply save for a wide-spread grin and a noogie. Ouch.

Somewhere between Alec's first steps into the library and Clary's shocked screech, Jace had crossed over to the entrance and barred our way. "We're sorry, but demons, mundanes, and elaborately-clothed creatures of the sparkly sort may _not_ be allowed safe passage into this room. If you are any of the afore-mentioned monstrosities, please state your name, number, and evil accomplice, and we will gladly record your name in our 'banned' book before destroyi-"

He was interrupted as a swift kick to the groin sent him doubling over. "Shit, Alec," he groaned before straightening up, still with a hand placed over the soon-to-be bruised area. "If that _is_ your name."

" _Alec_?" Clary asked, coming over to us and staring at my brother in puzzlement. "Is that you?"

"The one and only," he said, ruffling her hair, an action as out-of-character as his response was.

He didn't even get a chance to flinch. Jace had him pinned on the floor in the blink of an eye. "Who the hell are you, and what have you done with Alec?" He was only joking, I think.

"Who the hell are you to think that you could hold me down?" And Jace was on his back. Wow. "You'd be surprised at how agile I feel wearing tight leather pants. It's _amazing_. You should try it."

"Oh, is that what those are? I must've been wrong in thinking of a Crayola box." Of course Clary had to show him those darned things—I couldn't count how many stains on my clothes Jace had made using them! Washable indeed.

Alec reached down and grabbed Jace's hand, pulling him up. "Blame them on Magnus," he smiled.

" _Magnus_ did this to you?" Clary questioned him.

"Of course." Alec was so _bubbly_. Why didn't I even consider the fact that my brother's new character was that damn warlock's fault? "It was his birthday, so I let him do whatever he wanted with me—"

The muffled sound Jace made was somewhere between a cough, snort, and "Idiot."

"—and he decided to give me a makeover. Clever, huh?"

"Clever?" I snapped, advancing on my brother. " _Clever_? You let Magnus do this to you, yet you won't even let your own little sister dress you up! What kind of a big brother are you?"

Jace snickered, "A sparkly one at that."

I thwacked him on the shoulder. "Shut up! I'm not about to yell at you too. Alec, couldn't you have given him a _better_ present? You know what, he's NOT EVEN HERE! How am I supposed to reprimand him for doing this to you without consulting me?"

"Because he knows that you have a horrible fashion sense." Clary took care of Jace by elbowing him sharply in the stomach.

Alec put on that same smug smile that he had been wearing ever since he had came home. He glided over to the couch and settled down, crossing his arms behind his head and stretching his feet across the cushions. "Calm down. Remember how I went out today with Mom and Dad?"

"Yes!" I cried, stamping my foot into the ground once more. "You 'forgot' to bring me!"

He waved a hand at me lazily. "I had them help with the material half of the present."

"The _what_?"

"I believe he said 'maternal'. Alec's having a baby."

"Jace, can you please let them talk for once? Izzy might start another temper tantrum." Thank you, Clary.

Alec sighed deeply, not in exasperation, but in patience. "I _believe_ I said that I enlisted the help of our parents in purchasing quality fashion apparel from superior designer stores in the nearby shopping complex commonly referred to by mundanes as 'the mall'."

Silence. What in the Angel's name was wrong with my brother? Wasn't he fully aware that Jace and I—Clary hardly counted; she wasn't one to take sides—were enraged at him? And yet he speaks of the mall. Lovely. Why wasn't Jace helping me out on this?

Then,

"Izzy. You hold him, I'll punch."

* * *

POV of the Walking, Talking Glitter God

I sighed as I laid myself down on my bed.

You did a wonderful job, Magnus, a _very_ wonderful job. There had to be some sort of award for what I had just gone through. "I'm marvelous, aren't I Meow?"

Chairman Meow looked up at me from under my hand, which was stroking him softly in contentment.

"Yes, I know that you 'act' mute, and of your speech problems, so I am under the assumption that this is only because you're dumbfounded being in my presence."

The cat purred, which I accepted as an agreement. "I'm _honored_ , Meow. And sorry about my cruel treatment earlier."

His purr actually sounded concurring this time.

"I am indebted to your noble actions of informing me that my muffin Alec was stalling. If Oprah ever comes around to dropping that restraining order, I'll be sure to introduce you."

Chairman Meow padded over to my face, licked it a couple times, then jumped off the mattress, meowing insistently.

"What is it, Meow?" I asked, swinging myself down and stretching myself onto the floor.

He scurried under the bed; if not for his snowy coat I would've lost sight of him amongst the multitude of boxes. The cat stopped in front of that large Dolce & Gabbana box that I had seen earlier. "You want me to open it, Meow? I don't even remember getting it." He scratched at it forcefully. Well, there can't be any harm in opening it, could there? "Alright, alright, don't go ripping it open now," I said, grabbing the box and dragging it out from underneath, Chairman Meow following it happily.

I set the box down on the bed along with Chairman, and sat down at the edge. "Ready, cat?" I asked him.

He stared at me expectantly.

I exhaled deeply and proceeded to carefully tear apart the shiny paper, just in case something breakable happened to be inside... Then again, it was hardly likely for one of my favourite designer brands to sell paper mache butterflies. So I ripped the whole thing off, tossing it behind me.

Now for the moment of the big unveiling. Glancing nervously at Chairman Meow one last time, I lifted the lid off the box and shifted aside the blue tissue paper. I gasped. "Meow! Look!"

He cocked his head to the side as I drew a delicately-folded tuxedo jacket out of the box. I hastened to put it on in excitement and admired myself in the mirror. Whoever picked this out obviously had good taste. The cuffs, collar, and lining were pure white, whilst the stark black of the jacket was broken by light purple swirls of rhinestones. I turned around and saw the thin, curvy letters that were patterned onto the back with rhinestones: " _The Magnificent._ " "Amazing!" I cried out to no one in particular.

I strode back to the bed and retrieved dress pants patterned in the same fashion out of the box, followed by a purple dress shirt and a red sequined bowtie. I was so surprised that everything fit me, considering my lofty height. Not that I minded being tall, of course—everybody was always looking up at you; it made me feel important.

My thoughts were disrupted as I heard Chairman Meow scratching furiously at the box again. "What now?" I asked, looking inside for anything that I might have missed. It turned out that I did in fact miss something—an action not to be repeated to anybody.

A card.

A simple sheet of white paper that had been folded in half.

I picked it up and regarded it thoughtfully before opening it and reading what was written inside:

_High Warlock Bane,_

_We had planned on giving this to you in person, but our son insisted that we didn't, so we had him place this in a spot where you would easily find it—hopefully he remembers where he put it, and that we had given it to him in the first place. Alec is quite forgetful._

_Consider this a token of our gratitude and appreciation. You wouldn't believe how much our Alec has changed from being with you. We apologize for all our mishaps and disagreements with each other in the past, and we forgive you for whatever you had done in reciprocation._

_Our family will be hosting a dinner next Saturday in honor of Jocelyn and Luke's first child together—Alec did tell you she's pregnant, correct?—and we're hoping you will be able to join us. The event will be quite formal as we're having some guests from Alicante attend, so feel free to try out our present for you then._

_Again, we are deeply thankful for what you have done to make our son the wonderful man that he is today—we guess that he may be the only one to see the power of sparkles. We are indebted to you, Magnus._

_Sincerely,_   
_Robert and Maryse Lightwood_

_P.S. If you're wondering about the suit, one of Luke's friends works for D &G. Apparently it's an honor. He assisted us in creating an exclusive suit for you. We hope it fits well._

All I had to do now was change back into my original clothes and head down to the Institute like Alec had asked me to. Something about going out to Taki's for dinner, then returning to my apartment and enjoying my birthday night.

As I stepped outside into the dusk, I smiled, thinking about Alec's parents' sweet letter. It was nice to hear—or rather read—that they were indebted to me. I'd have to save that note for future shopping trips; perhaps I wasn't going to be using my Visa anymore.

Then I remembered something that had also drawn my attention. " _The power of sparkles._ " Hmm.

I liked it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out so much cheesier than I had expected. Especially since my original intention was a quick oneshot. Oops.
> 
> Once again, this was written before CoFA, hence some obvious inconsistencies.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! You can also find me on FF.net, and tumblr (isclanel dot tumblr dot com).
> 
> Cheers!


End file.
